The Dovahkiin - An Unexpected Journey
by RogueMetamorph
Summary: The Dovahkiin of Skyrim has stumbled on a portal that has transported her to Middle-Earth, a world where dwemer still walk and orcs are enemies. In search of her way home, Bryn joins Thorin and Co. to take back the Lonely Mountain and to slay a dragon, Smaug. But as time stretches on, she questions her destiny to destroy the one thing she fears; Alduin. Crossover, OC/Thorin.
1. Her Skyrim

**The Dovahkiin – An Unexpected Journey**

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**Disclaimer:**** I do not own **_**The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey**_** (new movies, old movies, books and any sort of etc. type stuff) which includes any of its characters or dialogue. I also don't own the **_**Elder Scroll series**_** or any other book, movie, song or character I may have mentioned along the way… except my OC of course. I just so happened to use it for non-profitable fun in my spare time.**

**Author's Note:**** We'll just ignore the fact that she'd be a werewolf. I'm also going to pretend I know everything throughout this fan fiction, so if I am confidently saying something that is completely incorrect… just go with it. I'm also sorry if anyone seems OOC, I try my best to not to or at least explain my way through it so that it is acceptable. **

**Thank you for your patience. Enjoy!**

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**Chapter 1 – Her Skyrim **

The first time Bryn felt like she had a home again was when she met the Companions.

She'd see the giant from a ways off and went running down the road toward it. As she grew closer, she could see a group of mercenaries fighting the creature but they seemed to be at their rope's end. She ran in with a roaring battle cry, war axes out, blonde hair flying and blue eyes ablaze. Using a kneeling mountain of a man, she managed to climb the front of the giant until she could reach its throat, slicing it clean and thoroughly. Balancing, she came down on the giant's chest as it fell backwards, her knees bent when it hit the ground.

The Companion's hadn't been impressed with her outwardly, mostly annoyed that a newcomer had taken their kill. Regardless, the woman- Alea the Huntress- introduced herself and the Companions, suggesting that the shield maiden try to join their ranks and become a shield sister. It hadn't taken Bryn long to search them out in Whiterun and join, easily rising up the ranks when they realized her skill and temperament. They became her new family to replace the one she'd lost so many years ago.

Kodlak had been the first to truly take her in, believing in her the second she came to him asking to join the Companions. While he'd been alive, he'd been the father of the Companions and when he'd passed, it had been hard on everyone, especially Bryn and Vilkas. Vilkas had tried to take the place of Kodlak as best he could and take care of the Companions as Kodlak would have done. Vilkas and Alea had always felt like her elder brother and sister, always looking after her and the other whelps of the Companions. They never seemed happy with what anyone did but Bryn knew that they were secret proud of all their shield siblings.

Farkas had been and would always be her favorite shield sibling whether she was willing to admit it or no. He had been a large, intimidating mountain of a man, his heavy steel armor adding to this persona. His deep voice had boomed down at her as he suggested she join the Companions. She didn't dare argue with him. But he wasn't as scary as everyone seemed to believe. His smile was as warm as the sun and appeared as often as the sun did. And he was afraid of himself more than others were. She noticed that whenever he was around others he was always overly careful; afraid that he might accidently hurt them if he wasn't careful. She loved that about him.

The Companions were her new family and she would do anything for them the same way they would do anything for her.

However, one can only do so much when their shield sibling is the Dragonborn.

Bryn got her first taste of the Voice- also known as the Dragon language or the Thu'um- when she'd been nearly executed and Alduin destroyed the poor village. She'd learned what she was the first time she'd killed a dragon, when she felt the soul of the dragon fill her to the brim with pour, searing at her nerve endings and burning her throat. She'd begun to understand when she'd been sent to learn from the Greybeards at High Hrothgar, their temple at the top of the Seven Thousand Steps to the Throat of the World. She began to see it in a new light when the Greybeards had sent her to their leader, the dragon Paarthurnax, who taught her what no human ever could about the Thu'um.

The Dragonborn was a warrior with the body of a mortal and the blood and soul of a dragon, whose destiny was to destroy the evil dragon, Alduin. Unfortunately for Bryn, he was flying about Skyrim bringing dragons back from the dead and she had no way to stop him. Yes, she could go around Skyrim killing the dragons he brought back, concussively killing them so that they would not return… but that was an awful lot of dragons and an awful lot of work for only one Dovahkiin.

So instead, with the help of the Greybeards and Paarthurnax, she was defeating Alduin in a more roundabout way… with the search of an Elder Scroll, the learning of the Dragon Rend and while searching for various other objects to guide her in her quest.

Bryn and her follower- the Khajiit caravan guard, Kharjo- walked along the coast of the Pale and Winterhold, headed towards the ice, snow and rocky cliffs. Bryn was currently in search of an item that would help her beat Alduin, just having finished finding some items for some friends and killing a group of bandits with Kharjo. She'd picked him up just outside of Dawnstar, asking him to join her on a few of her never ending stream of adventures. He'd been reluctant to go with her until Farkas had shown up to watch over the caravan in the meantime. Bryn had actually asked Farkas to go along with her in the first place but he'd refused.

"The last time I went on the road with you, little sister, I ended up with an arrow in my rump and lockjaw for a week until we could find an alchemist," Farkas frowned, down at her before he nudged her jokingly, nearly sending her into the nearest wall. "Next time. Just until I can get my favorite boots back from Eorlund. That Frost Spider really gave them a beating,"

But he'd agreed to some quiet guard duty with the Khajiit caravan.

"You are taking us someplace warm, I trust?" Kharjo asked.

Bryn snorted. "I wish,"

Kharjo sighed at this but bowed his head, gesturing for her to lead the way before him. "Khajiit walks in your footsteps, friend,"

Now the two were trudging through the sludge on the coast of the Sea of Ghosts. It was quiet except for the occasional howl of the wind or of a wolf in the distance. It was peaceful despite how much Bryn knew Kharjo didn't like it. He may have been better suited against the cold than the average Orc or Imperial but he certainly didn't like having to be in the cold. She could hear his teeth chattering from five feet away if she listened hard enough.

That was went they reached their first cave.

"We have found a cave," Kharjo told her in an obvious sort of way as they came to a stop in front of it, him shivering as they stared into the darkness of it. "I do not think there are warm fires and friendly faces inside,"

"With my experience, I thoroughly agree," Bryn murmured. "But you're shivering. We'll go through the cave and set up a camp so that you don't catch anything,"

"This Khajiit thanks you," he said with a bow of his head.

The two entered the cave and- surprisingly- found nothing in its depths. This, of course, was quite unusual for any cave in Skyrim but Bryn nor Kharjo decided to question their good luck.

"If anyone sneaks up on us, I will smell them coming… or I may not. We will see,"

Bryn smiled at him over her shoulder. "That is very assuring, Kharjo. Thank you,"

He bowed his head. "Khajiit guards your back,"

The two set up camp, building a fire to fight against the cold that blew into the cave and for Kharjo to dry his fur by. Bryn sat within the light of the fire, cleaning her war axes and organizing her gear that had become confused in the excitement of the day.

"These sands are cold, but Khajiit feels warmness from your presence," he commented from across the fire, his fur now almost completely dry and fluffed up. It made him look any pounds heavier than Bryn knew him to be and his face looked as if it were stuffed full of food.

She found it quite endearing.

"And I from yours, Kharjo,"

He smiled. "The fire helps,"

Bryn couldn't help but laugh at this.

At the sound of her laughter, Kharjo shook out his fur, his ears twitching about his head.

They slept in the cave that night with only a horker in the form of a disturbance, allowing the two to get a great deal of uninterrupted sleep. It was peaceful except for the constant cry of the wind at the entrance of the cave, the morning bringing the bright sun that warmed the ice.

Bryn was the last of the two to get up, stretching and rubbing at her face, remarkably not disturbing the green war paint on her face, smeared vertically down her cheeks from her from her eyes like tear tracks. She got up slowly, gathering her weapons and gear, pulling on her armor and tying her war axes to her side. Her Nord blonde hair hung down in loose locks that she typically braided back against her hair, pulled back into a high ponytail that hung down her back.

"By the Twin moons…"

Bryn looked up as she finished her last buckle, confused to find Kharjo standing near the entrance of the cave, stock-still.

"What is it, Kharjo?"

"You must see this with your own sight,"

Bryn approached slowly, coming to a stop beside Kharjo. Bryn's eyes were wide with awe at the portal, swirling in front of them like a whirl in the water at the bottom of a waterfall. She'd seen many of these things before but none appeared just out of thin air, popping up of their own free will.

"Where did it come from?"

Kharjo just tilted his head from side to side. "It had arrived before this Khajiit did,"

Bryn watched the portal for a long minute, waiting to see if any mad prince popped out at the two warriors or if a Prince of Debauchery would set her on a wild goose chase. None did. Not even a misguided magician appeared from the portal or from the nearby ice packs.

Bryn sighed. "I need to find out what is on the other end of the portal,"

Kharjo bowed his head. "Khajiit guards your back,"

"No, Kharjo. I think that it is time that we parted ways,"

He looked over at her with feline eyes wide with shock. "But it may be when you are in need of this Khajiit most,"

"Kharjo. I appreciate your worry for me but I do not know where this portal goes… and I do not want to be held responsible if you do not return to your caravan," Bryn placed a hand on his shoulder. "I can do this on my own,"

Kharjo was reluctant to leave his friend to go to some unknown territory on her own but he could see the determination in her eyes. She was going to go through the portal on her own and she was going to stop him if he followed. He also felt the tug on his heart strings that told him that he could not blindly follow her this time; he had his caravan to look after.

He accepted her order to leave her with a bow of his head. "Then, back home is where you will find me,"

Bryn smiled at her feline follower, reaching up on her tip-toes- because their height was very different- and kissed him on his furry cheek. He purred as she pulled away from him, the two smiling at each other as old friends tend to do when they are saying goodbye. Bryn turned toward the portal, taking a few confident strides toward it before she stuttered, coming to a stop before she turned back to him. Kharjo watched her; curious to what she had to say to him before she left.

"But if I do not return in the next few days, send Farkas,"

This earned her a toothy grin from the Khajiit. "As you wish," he nodded, tipping his head as he touched his fingertips to his forehead in farewell. "May your road lead you to warm sands,"

Bryn bowed her head to him and turned.

"Let's hope I'm just heading to Oblivion for a visit,"

And then she stepped inside, the portal swallowing her up before it disappeared with a blink of light, leaving the Khajiit alone in the snow.

Kharjo's ear twitched. "Farewell, Bryn,"

He turned and left, unsure of his friend's future.


	2. Their Middle-Earth

**The Dovahkiin – An Unexpected Journey**

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**Chapter 2 – Their Middle-Earth**

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At first, Bryn felt like she normally did when she entered one of those portals. She felt the soft caress of smoke and water move over like a ghost as the tingle of magic tickled her, like with a healing spell or when a lighting spell nearly hits you. However, the normalcy of it only lasted so long before things started to go terribly wrong for Bryn. It felt like her body was being pulled apart and put back together in the wrong order just before it was taken apart again. She was walking through fire as a lighting spell hit her while wolves were tearing her limb from limb while a dragon swallowed her whole and she couldn't get her Thu'um from her mouth.

It was pure agony.

When pain of the portal suddenly stopped all together, she felt relief for barely a second before she realized that she was in the air. She was far above a forest, too far for anyone to land on the ground comfortably. This was a fall that would be far worse than the time she had jumped off of Bard's Leap Summit. At least that fall she had a chance to survive.

Bryn screamed as she dropped like a rock, twisting and flailing through the air to try to do something to help her to survive the fatal fall into the trees and to the ground. The trees sped towards her at an alarming rate, barely giving her enough time to aim her body for the branches, painfully trying to catch herself on them to slow her fall to the ground. But she knew it wouldn't be slow enough if she wanted to be without a broken bone or two. She had to do something fast.

"_FUS RO DA_!"

It wasn't a good idea but it was all Bryn had in her scrambled brain at the moment. The shout hit a mixture of the ground and a few trees, blowing Bryn backwards. She'd expected to knock over some trees or create a hole in the ground but apparently, because she didn't have her feet planted- or on the ground for that matter- and wasn't grounded, she went sailing through the air in a new direction. Her new direction had her back meeting an old maple tree, slamming her back into it before she slid down to the ground, meeting the forest floor with her rump.

Bryn was in all types of pain… achy, sore, tender, bruised, battered, beaten, black and blue, bashed, painful types of pain. She groaned as she sat up a bit straighter against her tree, trying not to let any of her weapons indent her in a way that she would only use on an enemy.

"By the Divines," she hissed, removing her pack and throwing off her weapons. "What in Oblivion was that?"

"That, my dear, was a portal. A portal that you, quite unceremoniously, came through,"

Bryn looked up as a tall elderly man with a tall twisted walking stick his hand came walking up to her through the trees. He was completely in grey, his voluminous robes, his strange hat, his beard, even his eyes were a blue-grey color that shined out of his kind face. He leaned down over her, eyeing her carefully as if she were a squashed torchbug. In return, she shrank away from the man, frowning up at him.

"If you make that face too long, it'll get stuck that that, you know,"

Bryn's expression grew darker.

"Suit yourself," the man shrugged, straightening away from her, leaning on his walking stick with both hands. "Tell me, what is your name?"

"What is yours?"

The man chuckled at her stubbornness but gave into her. "My name is Gandalf, Gandalf the Grey. And yours?"

Bryn scrunched her nose, not happy. "Bryn… Bryn the Dragonborn,"

"That is an interesting name,"

Bryn ducked her head. "That's not truly my name. Dragonborn is what I am,"

Gandalf's eyes widened in surprise. "How could one be born from a dragon? It sounds quite impossible,"

"Well, because…" Bryn stopped, looking up at the old man curiously. "How do you not know what the Dragonborn is? Where am I?"

Gandalf chuckled. "Well, wherever you are, it is not where you come from and think you are,"

Bryn frowned up at the man again, shifting uncomfortably on the ground. Alright, if she had no choice, she'd give in and tell the man… maybe he could explain some of her current confusion.

"I come from a land known as Skyrim," she told him. "It is in the Northern coast of Tamriel,"

Gandalf the Grey seemed shocked and confused, translating into a small twitch at the corner of his mouth. "Well, my dear, you are now in Middle-Earth, to the west, near a land called the Shire,"

This was quite strange. How could a normal portal have sent her to a completely different land? Sure, those portals had sent her to different dimensions before, even had the potential to send her to different times… but she was in a different world altogether?

"Tell me, what is it that you did before you hit the ground from you fall?"

Bryn's frown deepened as she turned it onto this man. She didn't altogether want to admit her whole life story to this man… for all she knew, this man could be her land's version of Alduin, just in a kinder more approachable package. However, she didn't get that impression from this man and usually her instincts were very good with that sort of thing. And she really had no choice if she, in turn, wanted to get any information out of him.

"I used my Thu'um to slow my fall. A shout,"

He still didn't understand her.

"As the Dragonborn, I have the body of a mortal and the blood and soul of a dragon. Therefore, I have the ability to leave the dragon language. It's instinctual,"

He still didn't understand her in the slightest.

Bryn sighed. "Dragons are supposed to 'breathe' fire. They don't. They saw words of power in the dragon language, called a shout," Bryn tried to explain to the man. She was trying to remember what the Greybeards had told her and tried to call upon her own understanding to explain it to him. She didn't feel as if it was going well. "They say a shout and that shout creates the fire or ice or… whirlwind. Because I have a dragon's soul, I can learn this as easily as a child learning to speak in the common tongue. Others can use the Thu'um but it is much harder,"

Gandalf nodded as if he understood her but she wasn't so sure he did.

"And that is what you did? You shouted like a dragon who breathes fire?"

Bryn nodded.

"Hmm," Gandalf seemed to accept this, turning it over in his head as his eyes moved over the trees that surrounded them. "How is it that you came here? Through the portal I suppose?"

"Yes. My companion and I woke up to find it outside the cave we were sleeping in. I sent him home so that I could investigate,"

"Not entirely wise," Gandalf murmured. "But very brave… adventurous,"

Bryn snorted. "No one has ever told me that I need to be more adventuresome,"

"And you went through this portal and ended up here?"

"Yes," Bryn nodded. "But it did not feel the way a portal usually does. It burned and felt like I was being pulled apart opposed to tingling,"

Gandalf nodded thoughtfully.

"And this is not Skyrim?"

"No,"

"I'm not even in Tamriel?"

"I've never heard of it,"

"And this… Middle-Earth… are there Nords and Imperials?"

"No," Gandalf said instantly, not even bothering to ask her what those things were.

"Are there Redguards and Brentons?"

"No,"

"Khajiit, Orsimer, Argonians or any of the Mer races?"

"… No,"

Bryn made a whimpering sound, feeling dread over her current predicament. So many times she'd gone into a tunnel with no idea what lurked inside or where it would take her, but she always knew that she could turn around and appear back in Skyrim. But now? She was in some unknown place with none of her usually races or places. If only there was at least a race that she was familiar with… or if this man knew what she was talking about more than none of the time.

"My dear girl," Gandalf smiled down at her despite her obvious distress, placing a strong hand on her shoulder. "Despite how strange this must be for you, I believe we were meant to meet here,"

Bryn's frown returned. She wasn't pleased with the man.

"I am on my way to a meeting with a company of dwarves-"

"Dwarves?" Bryn interrupted curiously. "You mean the Dwemer? You have that race here?"

"Yes, we have dwarves here. A very stubborn people," Gandalf told her, commenting the last bit mostly to himself before turning back to her. "This particular company of dwarves are going on a quest to reclaim their homeland, Erebor. I believe that you were meant to help them on their journey,"

Bryn sighed. "That's what everyone says when they meet me,"

"Then perhaps you should return to what is normal and you might find yourself tripping back into what is most normal; your own world," Gandalf straitened again, groaning as he finally came up, his head tilting over his face until he righted it. "If you come with me, I can promise you an adventure, something- by the armor you wear and the weapons you carry- I am sure you are used to. Perhaps the company will be able to help you find your way back to where you belong,"

He reached a hand out toward her. It was an offer. She didn't have to take it.

Bryn stared at the weathered hand for a long moment before she decided.

She took it and pulled herself up.

"Wonderful," Gandalf grinned, waiting for her to gather her things. "Well, Bryn Dragonborn, we must hurry along. I have some pressing business in Hobbiton. We are inducting our fourteenth member into the company, a burglar by the name of Bilbo Baggins,"

"A burglar?" Bryn frowned, slinging her sack over her shoulder. "You mean a thief,"

"Yes… but thief is such a hard word,"

Bryn rolled her eyes. "If the Dwemer are reclaiming their homeland why do they need a burglar?"

"The type of quest they will be going on will require a bit of tact and cleverness,"

"And they don't have that?"

Gandalf laughed. "No, I'm afraid they do not. Just an abundance of dwarven stubbornness,"

The two walked in companionable silence, both of them contemplating the other. Bryn found this whole new world confusing and strange in comparison to her own; all of the new strange types of humans, Mers, Orcs and beasts. There were even Dwemer running about, trying to reclaim their homeland under the mountains!

Gandalf the Grey was having the same type of time trying to imagine what her world could possibly be like that would make his sound so strange. And the concept of a Dragonborn?

"What are the races that live in your Middle-Earth?" Bryn finally asked, curious about this new world she was setting out in. "Anything I should look out for?"

"I don't think there is anything too strange," Gandalf told her, thinking on her question. "There are men- men from Rohan, Gondor or the seaman from the south- the Dunedain, the Dwarves from the eight kingdoms, the Hobbits and the Elves-"

"The Elves?" Bryn asked, perking up. "Are they like the ones in my land?"

"And what are they like?"

"Well, there are the Altmer Elves, also called the High Elves. They tend to have a golden coloring and are taller," Bryn's nose scrunched. "They're also quite stuck up,"

Gandalf chuckled.

"The Bosmer or Wood Elves, they are the shortest and have a red complexion. The Dunmer or Dark Elves who have grey skin and red eyes-"

"Red eyes?" Gandalf interrupted. "I don't believe we have any red eyed beings here,"

Bryn frowned. "Oh,"

"We instead have the Mirkwood Elves, who live in the Greenwood under the rule of Thranduil Greenleaf. Then there are the Elves of Lothlòrien, who I would say are quite high indeed. They are guided by the Lady Galadriel and her husband Celeborn. And then the Elves of Imladris who live in the Hidden Valley, they are governed by Lord Elrond, the most learned healer in Middle-Earth,"

"Which of these races are you?" Bryn asked, turning to study him. "You haven't said anything that would make me suspect you were a dwarf… and you don't look like any Elf I've ever seen,"

"I'd hope not," Gandalf chuckled. "I am a wizard,"

"Are wizards like mages?"

"Of course not," Gandalf exclaimed, looking insulted. "Magicians preform slights of hand and meager party tricks,"

"Not in my world," Bryn told him. "Magicians preform spells of conjuration, alteration, restoration, destruction, illusion. They are very well thought of… except in Winterhold,"

Gandalf took this in before he spoke. "Well, here, there are wizards and there are only five of us. Saruman the White- who is the most powerful of us- Radagast the Brown, the two blues and I, Gandalf the Grey,"

"What else is there?"

"Well… there are the nasty bunches like the Trolls, Goblins, Wargs-"

"Wargs?" she asked.

"Evil wolf-like creatures that tend to be ridden by Goblins or Orcs,"

"Orcs?" Bryn frowned. "In my land, they are my friends,"

"I believe here you will find them to be quite different,"

Bryn frowned at that but continued with her questioning. "What else is there?"

"Well, as you can imagine, there are dragons,"

Bryn laughed. "It should figure that wherever I go, no matter what world, there would be dragons for me to slay,"

"In fact, the quest that the dwarven company is going on includes a dragon. Smaug the Terrible, who conquered their homeland, Erebor, the city under the mountain,"

"Under the mountain?" Bryn asked before the shock and awe leaked from her face. "Never mind. I shouldn't be so surprised when I've seen Blackreach,"

Gandalf chose not to ask.

"Ah!" Gandalf sighed as if he had just walked through his own front door. "Here we are. Hobbiton,"

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**Author's Note: Comment! I don't care what you say but review. Copy and paste your favorite line, tell me which dwarf you like best, tell me anything! Review!**


	3. His Bag-End

**The Dovahkiin – An Unexpected Journey**

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**Chapter 3 – His Bag-End**

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Bryn sat amongst twelve dwarves, a wizard and what she learned to be a hobbit. Hobbits were like dwarves but less hairy, more kindly mannered, more twitchy and with bigger feet. This one in particular was named Bilbo Baggins and from what Bryn could gather, hadn't been planning on having anyone over to his home, much less a herd of dwarves and two tall folk.

The dwarves didn't help calm the twitchy little hobbit much. They were bringing all of his various food plates from the pantry, flinging plates about and shoving the dining room table up to the wall as much as possible to make room for everyone. Bilbo was trying his hardest to keep some order, trying to keep his prized tomatoes safe or keep the dwarves from using his grandfather's chairs or mother's old china or his grandmother's doilies as napkins. The dwarves didn't listen to him much, just continued on with what they were doing until they were all sat down at the table, laughing and talking merrily as they ate and drank. They were cheerfully drinking and eating as food flew from hands to mouths, mead drizzling down beards and chins.

It all reminded Bryn of home actually.

"And who are you?"

Bryn turned to find Bilbo next to her. She'd been trying to stay out of the dwarves' way this whole time and had been tucked into a corner. Now that all the dwarves were in the dining room, it was only Bilbo and her that were in the rest of the house and Bilbo looked about ready to bust.

"I apologize for not introducing myself earlier," she told him as she bowed to him, fist over her heart. "I am Bryn the Dragonborn. Gandalf the Grey invited me. I hope you do not mind,"

Bilbo snorted unceremoniously. "I suppose not. I already have a herd of dwarves in my dining room. One woman shouldn't hurt too badly," He then bowed to her and introduced himself. "I am Bilbo Baggins of Bag-End. It's a pleasure to meet you, Bryn the Dragonborn,"

Bryn smiled. "The pleasure is all mine,"

"Have you eaten?"

"Well… no,"

Bilbo pulled a biscuit from his robe pocket, scrunching his nose at it before he dusted it off and handed it to her. "It might be the only bit of food left in the house,"

Bryn took it gratefully. "Thank you, Mr. Baggins,"

That was when the cleanup started. Bryn nibbled on her biscuit as she watched dishes and mugs fly through the air without breaking or chipping, miraculously making it into the kitchen without any trouble. The whole thing had looked like something only a magician or daedra could have managed on a good day… or Cicero. Bilbo kept running around like a chicken with his head cut off, eyes wide as he watched his mother's dishes flying around him, only calming when he could them all in his kitchen with nary a crack or break.

Then a knock came at the door.

"He is here,"

Gandalf was the first to the door, opening it to reveal a majestic looking dwarf at the hobbit's doorstep. He turned and smiled up at the wizard the two of them greeting like old friend, which Bryn had no doubt about. This dwarf- like only two or so of the already attending dwarves- had black-brown hair, this one with streaks of grey mixed in, his hair falling past his broad shoulders. This dwarf was also taller than the rest- except for the bald one- coming up to Bryn's chin instead of just barely making it to her chest. She'd always been short in Skyrim because she was a woman… and because she was just outright short… but the dwarves and hobbit were definitely a new kind of short, one that made her feel like the giants of her world.

The dwarf smiled and stepped inside. "I thought you said this place would be easy to find," he commented to Gandalf as he pulled off his cloak. "I lost my way, twice. I wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door,"

Bilbo looked shocked. "Mark? There's no mark on that door. It was painted a week ago,"

"There is a mark. I put it there myself," Gandalf told him, closing said door before turning around to introduce them. "Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company; Thorin Oakenshield,"

"So this is the hobbit," Thorin murmured, eyeing the unimposing creature before him. "Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done any fighting?"

"Pardon me?"

"Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?"

"Well, I have some skill at conkers, if you must know," Bilbo told him proudly as the dwarf finished circling, crossing his arms. "But I fail to see why that's relevant,"

"I thought as much," the dwarf snorted. "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar,"

The rest of the dwarves laughed.

"And there is another I wish you to meet," Gandalf continued, ignoring the joke. "Bryn? Bryn!? Where are- Oh, there you are. I didn't see you there,"

Bryn stepped out from her corner, ducking under the chandelier in the center of the ceiling in the entryway. Bryn, as opposed to Bilbo, was much more imposing with her well used armor and her obviously war hardened body, muscular with the scars a warrior typically had- a scar over her nose and chin, her knuckles whiter from the rest of her skin from the constant scarring. Her hair, unlike women's hair, may have been long but was braided back against her head to keep from getting in her way in battle, the straw color darkened from dirt from the road. All she needed was her weapons which she had removed as the other dwarves had done, also not wanting to accidently knocking into someone and get blood all over the carpet.

"Thorin Oakenshield, this is Bryn the Dragonborn," Gandalf introduced, gesturing to her. "I found her along the road and thought that she'd make a beneficial addition to your company,"

"Along the side of the rode?"

Gandalf simply shrugged at the dwarf while Bryn smiled.

"Axe or sword?" Thorin asked, repeating the question he'd asked of Bilbo.

"I can handle a sword but I use war axes and a bow,"

"Experience?"

"I'm still alive, aren't I?" Bryn smiled. "I've seen more than a lifetime should allow,"

Thorin accepted this. "What has Gandalf told you?"

"That you wish to reclaim your homeland from a dragon," Bryn couldn't help the cocky smile that lit her face. "I believe I can help in that,"

Thorin nodded noncommittally and turned to the dining room. "Good,"

"Wait… dragon?" Bilbo repeated, looking up at Gandalf.

Everyone ignored him as they headed towards the dining room, giving Thorin a bowl of soup.

"What news from the meeting in Ered Luin?" a white bearded dwarf asked as Bryn settled out in the hallway. "Did they all come?"

"Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms,"

The dwarves made cheerful sounds at one another.

"What do the dwarves of the Iron Hills say?" the bald dwarf, tallest of them all, asked their leader, waiting for the bad news he knew would come. "Is Dain with us?"

Thorin would not meet their eyes for a moment, the bad news burning his tongue before he finally admitted it to them. "They will not come,"

The disappointment of the dwarves moved throughout the room.

"They say this quest is ours and ours alone,"

"You're going on a quest?"

Bryn looked up to find Bilbo peaking interestedly over Gandalf's shoulder.

"Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light," Gandalf suggested. As Bilbo left for another candle, Gandalf stood, pulling a map from his sleeve to lay out on the table before them. Bryn leaned toward it to try to sneak a peek over Gandalf's shoulder but found that it was pointless. It was a map of one particular mountain, not that she would have been able to make sense of a map when she didn't know where she was. "Far to the East, over ranges and rivers, beyond the woodlands and wastelands lies a single solitary peak,"

"The Lonely Mountain," Bryn read from the map, peaking over Thorin's shoulder.

"Aye. Oin has read the portents and the portents say it is time,"

"Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as it was foretold. _When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end_,"

"Uh, what beast?" Bilbo asked concerned.

"Well that would be a reference of Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest of our age," one of the dwarves explained around his pipe, his strange hat tilting on his head. "Airborne fire-breathing, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks, extremely fond of precious metals-"

"Yes, I know what a dragon is," Bilbo interrupted, looking uncomfortable.

Bryn frowned. Maybe she needed to learn a bit more of this world. To her, a dragon was a being of power that Shouted power thirsted for more, an ancient creature that were once worshipped and forever feared. Since when were they interested in gold?

"I'm not afraid!" a young dwarf exclaimed as he stood. "I'm up for it. I'll give him a taste of the Dwarfish iron right up his jacksie!"

"Sit down!"

"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us but we number just thirteen," the white bearded dwarf commented. "And not fourteen of the best… nor brightest,"

"_What?! Dim_?"

"_Hey_!"

"_Here! Who are you calling dim_?"

"_Sorry, what did he say_?"

One of the younger dwarves slammed his fist down onto the table, bring everyone's attention to him as he spoke. "We may be few in number but we're fighters, all of us, to the last dwarf!"

"And you forget, we have a Wizard in our company!" the dark haired dwarf said from beside him, a confident smile on his face. "Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time,"

Gandalf looked up. "Oh, well, no. I wouldn't say-"

"How many, then?" another dwarf asked him.

"What?"

"Well, how many dragons have you killed?"

Gandalf coughed uncomfortably.

"Come on, give us a number,"

Gandalf shifted uncomfortably, spying Bryn out of the corner of his eye. "Well, actually, that is more Bryn's territory. That is why she is here,"

The dwarves all turned to Bryn in unison, making her feel uncomfortable as she shifted under their gazes. "In my land, dragons only began to awaken after Alduin appeared in our time to destroy our world. I've only killed twenty-five or so,"

The dwemer still made awestruck sounds.

"In _your_ land?" Thorin frowned, catching on her words. "And where is it, Bryn the Dragonborn, that _you_ come from?"

"Skyrim. To the north in Tamriel," Bryn told him before trying to right herself, not wanting to have to go about explaining herself all night. "It is a land very, very far from here,"

"_I've never heard of it_,"

"_What's a Skyrim_?"

"_Where is that exactly_?"

All the dwarves started arguing again, some confused about where she was from, some insisting that they'd been there before and it was just north of the Lonely Mountain, others were arguing about how a woman would know so much of dragons.

"_**Shazara**_!" Thorin suddenly bellowed in another language, standing over his dwarves. "If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too? Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon, Smaug, has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look east to the mountains, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we sieve this chance to take back Erebor?"

The dwarves cheered in response.

"_Du Bekar! Du Bekar_!"

"You forget, the Front Gate is sealed," the white beared dwarf interrupted. "There is no way into the mountain,"

That seemed silly to Bryn. Every good miner makes sure to create a second exit incase the front exit collapses on itself. What kind of Dwemer- dwarves, she had to remind herself- would not do the same for a whole city under the mountain?

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true,"

Bryn looked over as Gandalf weaved his fingers, producing a dwarvish key, from between them as if he'd been playing with it the whole time.

Thorin looked at it in wonder. "How come you by this?"

"It was given to me by your father, by Thrain, for safekeeping. It is yours now,"

The wizard handed the key to Thorin as he stared at it in wonder, even when it met his hand his eyes still watching it as if he were afraid it would disappear.

"If there's a key, there must be a door," the young blond dwarf murmured.

Gandalf nodded, pointing at the map with his pipe. "These runes speak of a hidden passage to the Lower Halls,"

The young dark hair dwarf grinned. "There's another way in,"

"Well, if we can find it but dwarf doors are invisible when closed," Gandalf sighed, looking down at the map. "The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map and I do not have the skill to find it. But there are others in Middle-Earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage. But, if we are careful and clever, I believe that it can be done,"

"That's why we need a burglar,"

"Hmm. And a good one too," Bilbo commented with a nod of his head. "An expert, I'd imagine,"

"And are you?"

Bilbo looked at the dwarf with confusion. "Am I what?"

"He said he's and expert!" the dwarf with a hearing apparatus exclaimed happily. "Hey hey!"

"M-me? No, no, no, no, no. I'm not a burglar. I've never stolen a thing in my life,"

"I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr. Baggins. He's hardly burglar material,"

"Nope," Bilbo agreed.

"Aye, the wild is no place for gentlefolk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves,"

As the dwarves started arguing again, Bilbo continued nodding in agreement. Bryn watched Gandalf with interest at this point, watching his lip twitch angrily in barely held in rage as he watched the dwarves question his choice. Finally, the magician- wizard- stood from his seat, the whole room darkening dangerously as his voice boomed like a dragon's.

"_**Enough!**_** If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is**," The light slowly returned to the room and the tension ceased as Gandalf continued, having calmed down from his episode. "Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most, if they choose. And, while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of Dwarf- and even man- the smell of a hobbit is all by unknown to him which gives us a distinct advantage," Gandalf then turned to Thorin as he sat down again. "You asked me to find you the fourteenth member of this company and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest and he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know… including himself,"

The two men eyed each other.

"You must trust me on this,"

"And what about your human?" one of the dwarves asked. "Byron?"

"I am here to help," Bryn spoke up, standing just behind Gandalf's shoulder. "While I'm away from home I might as well do _something_ that is familiar. Going on adventures and fighting dragons is what I do and what your company needs," She then looked over and smiled at Bilbo. "And I will protect the hobbit when he comes," Bilbo shook his head and made a cutting motion across his neck to stop her but Bryn pretended not to notice.

Thorin sighed. "Very well. We will do this your way, wizard. Give the hobbit the contract,"

Bilbo's eyes were wide, looking between Gandalf, Bryn, Thorin and the dwarf that handed him the contract, insistent on not going. As soon as the contract met Bilbo's hand, it unfurled until the long piece of parchment hit the floor, a few extra wings unfurling from the side. Both Bilbo and Bryn stared at the thing in shock, unsure of what to make of it.

"It's just the usual," the dwarf explained. "Summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth,"

"Funeral arrangements?" Bilbo repeated, walking off to read the parchment.

"I've never gotten that offered to me," Bryn commented watching Bilbo mumble to himself about the contract. "And I've probably needed it in the past more than he does,"

"You sure you don't want a contract, lass?"

Bryn waved him off. "I know what I'm getting myself into. I don't need funeral arrangements or any remunerations. Thank you though,"

"… laceration… evisceration… _incineration?_" Bilbo read off, looking over at the dwarves.

"Aye," the dwarf with the strange hat nodded. "He'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye,"

Bilbo whimpered.

"You all right, laddie?"

"Huh? Yeah," Bilbo nodded, bracing himself against his knees. "Feel a bit faint,"

"Think furnace with wings," the dwarf continued.

"Air. I need air,"

"Flash of light… searing pain… then poof! You're nothing more than a pile of ash,"

Bryn watched with amusement as Bilbo tried to get a handle on himself, ending up passing out on his carpet. She initially found it funny until she remembered how frightening it had been when Alduin had destroyed Helgen with her in it, remembered killing her first dragon. It was nothing to sneeze at… maybe fighting so many dragon was starting to affect her, make everything that had normally been so frightened, pale in comparison.

Gandalf got Bilbo up and led him off to sit quietly in the den.

The dwarves gathered in the front room, sitting and standing around the fire as they pulled out their pipes to smoke. It was quiet except the bits of chatter between the dwarves and the crackle of the fire that lit the room with a soft glow.

Bryn remained quiet in her corner, watching the dwarves as they began to hum in unison.

"_Far over the misty mountains cold… to dungeons deep and caverns old_…"

It was more beautiful that any bard in Skyrim could manage, had much more feeling than any lament written in Tamriel and far better than any lullaby that her mother had ever sung to her. Their rich voices blended together and rumbled in her bones, warming her stomach as her head lulled against the wall, the fire dancing in the fireplace.

"_The fire was red, it flaming spread… the trees like torches blazed with light_,"

Bryn fell asleep in her corner, the sound of the dwarves' hums lulling her to dreams of Dwemer and dragons.


	4. On The Road

**The Dovahkiin – An Unexpected Journey**

* * *

**Chapter 4 – On The Road**

* * *

"_I said it. Didn't I say it? Coming here was a waste of time_,"

"_That's true enough_,"

"_Ridiculous notion. Use a hobbit? A halfling_?"

"_Whose idea was it anyway_?"

Bryn rolled her eyes, shifting in her saddle as she rode.

The dwemer, Gandalf and her had set out from Bag-End just before dawn with sixteen ponies and two horses. They hadn't bothered to wake up the hobbit since he'd been so adamant about not wanting to go on an adventure like the one described to him in his contract. On some level deep down, Bryn could understand his fear and reluctance completely. When she'd been a little Nord girl running around her father's farm, she'd wanted to be pretty, to marry a handsome prince and to have a comfortably quiet life. However, the sword had always called to her and in the end, it had been forced on her until she'd ended up being a legendary warrior and the Dragonborn.

And she wouldn't give it up for the world.

"How are you liking it here, ma'am?"

Bryn turned to smile down at the dwarf with the strange hat. Gandalf had been kind enough to have given her a lesson on the names of the various dwarves. It had been confusing to start out but she could remember some of them. The more distinct they looked the easier it was.

"Bofur. Correct?"

The dwarf smiled and straightened. "Yes, ma'am. A pleasure to meet you,"

"A pleasure to meet you as well, Master Dwemer,"

His nose scrunched at the word but he didn't comment. "So how are you liking it here? You don't look like you're from around here… not even Rohan,"

"No, I'm not," Bryn agreed. "My land is quite different from yours or your Rohan hold. It's definitely much warmer than where I live," Bryn looked around, seeing the lush green fields and the rolling valleys. The sun was shining overhead with absolutely no clouds to block it. The warmth on her skin almost made her want to remove her armor because of how warm she was becoming. It was quite a change from her Skyrim. "It's beautiful here,"

"What's it like there?"

"Each stretch of Skyrim is different in its own way. The area near Riften is wet woodlands while Winterhold is always covered in snow. But no matter where you are, it's always cold and sometimes the sun doesn't even come out all day. It's mostly harsh planes but there are some mountains and hills. In fact, it is home to three of the tallest mountains in Tamriel," Bryn couldn't help the smile that came to her face as she thought of it. "It's a harsh place but it's beautiful in its own way. It's home,"

"Where do you live among these places of Skyrim?"

Bryn looked over at Ori and frowned. "I was born in Helgen… but it has been my home since my parents were murdered by bandits. The only reason I returned there was to be executed when I was thought to be one of the Stormcloaks- a group in the civil war of Skyrim. I was nearly beheaded when Alduin came to destroy the place,"

"And now?"

"Literally speaking, I have a home in Whiterun and Riften but I never stay in either place for too long. It doesn't feel right and I always tell myself I have too many things to do to stay in one place for too long… but the real reason, I suppose, is that I don't really have a home,"

The dwarves understood what she meant. Most of them had been living in the Blue Mountains for years now but it never really felt like home.

"What is it that you do in your Skyrim?"

"I mostly do favors," Bryn shrugged, not finding a better word for it. "People know of me so when I come into their towns they ask if I can do something for them. Could I find their lost amulet? Can I pick this up from there? Can I get rid of some bandits? Can I guide them to there? Could I find them a few of this or that? But at the end of the day, I mostly kill dragons,"

A wave of murmurs went through the group.

"And you've killed twenty-five?"

Bryn tilted her head from side to side. "Give or take. They tend to give our people a lot of grief. Sometimes they'll leave us alone but other's come to the cities looking for trouble," Bryn smiled. "And I make sure to give it to them,"

"And what makes you so qualified to?"

Everyone- including Bryn- looked to Thorin who was eyeing Bryn suspiciously. She didn't like the look on him but she could understand it well enough. Skyrim was known for its warriors, men and women alike, but it might be different here. It also didn't help that her height and musculature, no matter how impressive, didn't seem like it could hold up against the might of a dragon.

"In my world, I am a legend. I am the Dragonborn," she told him, loud enough that everyone could hear her and she'd only have to explain it once. "The Dragonborn is a warrior of legend with the body of a mortal and the blood and soul of a dragon who can speak and understand the dragon language. The Dragonborn's destiny is to kill Alduin the World Eater. I am the Dragonborn,"

"So?"

"So…"

"So you are named. So you are a supposed legend. So you are this… _Dragonborn_… Why does that make you special?"

"Because I am Dragonborn I can understand the Thu'um. And so I can Shout like a dragon," This, like it had Gandalf, only seemed to confuse them. "Dragon's do not _breath_ fire or ice," Bryn tried to explain to them. "They use their language to Shout these things, conjuring fire and ice from their words of power. Because I am the Dragonborn, I know this language and can learn it as easily as learning to skip as a child. I know these words and can Shout like a dragon,"

The dwarves didn't seem convinced.

"Show us," Thorin demanded.

Bryn frowned at the dwarf but decided to oblige.

"Alright, I'll need someone's help… King Dwemer Thorin?" The dwarves started to disagree loudly as Bryn got down from her horse. "Do you really think I would seriously harm your king?"

Silence followed.

Bryn turned her ice-blue eyes on Thorin, raising an eyebrow in challenge. "You wanted me to show you, didn't you?"

He huffed as he got down from his own pony, walking toward her with his chest puffed out to try to show that he wasn't scared of her. It only served to amuse Bryn, watching the dwarf stalk over to her, trying to look tall but still having to look up to meet her eyes.

"Alright, take a few steps back," she instructed him. "I don't want to knock you through the trees. I would like to keep my word,"

Thorin nodded, walking a few yards away from her before he turned back.

"Alright," she smiled, straightening her back as she settled herself. "Ready?"

Thorin nodded.

She normally didn't have to take so long to Shout but she decided to draw on the suspense and tease the dwemer a bit. She straightened her back and grounded herself, watching Thorin shift uncomfortably in front of her. She let the word of power materialize in her head as she mediated a bit on the meaning of it; to push the world and not let it push back. As she took a deep breath in, she could feel her dragon soul come alight with power, searing at her nerve endings and burning her throat as the word exited her mouth.

"_FOS!_"

The word hit him square in the chest, knocking him back a few steps until he dropped to his knees, his hand meeting the ground to keep him from falling back onto his rump. The awe was obvious in the shocked silence that followed as Thorin stood, his blue eyes wide even though he tried not to show how blatantly surprised he was. Bryn couldn't help but smile, her fingers itching with power that wanted so badly to be released again. It was her dragon blood that burned in her, wanting to conquer and destroy. It was only her own human will and heart that kept that part of her in check.

"_That didn't seem like very much_,"

Bryn looked over her shoulder at Fili with amusement. "Did you _want_ me to send your uncle all the way back to Bag-End?"

The dwarf ducked his eyes. "… No,"

Bryn laughed. "Then don't ask for what you don't understand,"

"But that wasn't fire,"

"Again, did you _want_ me to light your uncle on fire, Kili?"

"… No,"

"So you can do others?" Thorin asked as he approached her, a vague excitement surrounding his small frame. Bryn could see the warrior in him that was interested in exploiting her for her gifts, just like the Emprie and the Stormcloaks did, but she could also see the little boy in him that was excited at receiving a new toy. "You can… _say_ different things and they'll happen differently?"

Bryn nodded. "I can shout an unrelenting force, a wave of fire, a breath of ice, a storm, a whirlwind sprint… quite a few things. My old master told me there were others but I had yet to learn them before I left my land,"

"Can you show us another?"

Bryn tilted her chin up and looked up into the sky. "_FO KRAH DIIN!_"

The leafs of the trees above her froze instantly, leaving the warm summer day looking like winter had stormed in.

"Oh,"

"Interesting…" Thorin murmured thoughtfully, trying to reveal as little as possible to her. "And you can use them to help us?"

Bryn nodded, turning to the dwarf. "Apparently Akatosh has brought me here because he means for me to aid your journey, Sir Dwemer… or else has allowed me to come to your world as Alduin and his followers wished," Bryn bowed deeply to the dwemer king, her fist over her chest and her eyes lowered. "You have my weapons and my Thu'um, Thorin Oakenshield, Dwemer King Under the Lonely Mountain,"

Thorin nodded. "It is good to know,"

The company continued on as planned, their ponies and horses taking an easy pace through the foot hills towards the west. Bryn had no idea where they were going but she was excited to see this new land. She dearly loved her Skyrim but it was always exciting to see something new. However, she kept thinking of the hobbit. She wished that he had come with them. From what she knew of her myriad of adventures, it was always good to have cleverness and stealth on your side, no matter what you thought you were going to be facing. Yes, Bryn could probably help with the sneaking and the cleverness… but she didn't have that arrow scar on her rump for nothing.

And then she heard it.

"_Wait! Wait!_"

She pulled her horse to a stop and turned to see a hobbit sized dot running towards them with a banner in hand. This banner turned out to be a signed contract handed over to Balin who eyed the signature before greeting Bilbo as one of theirs. "Welcome, Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield,"

Bryn cheered a bit louder than the others but she didn't care. She was happy to see the little hobbit among them now… maybe she wouldn't look so much like a greenhorn if he were around. It was clear how green he was by how he acted as soon as he was put on the back of a pony, his arms up and his back stiff. Bryn thought it was cute.

"Come on, Nori! Pay up,"

Sacks of coins went flying around the group.

"What's that all about?" Bilbo asked Gandalf.

"Oh, they took wagers on whether or not you'd turn up. Most of them bet that you wouldn't,"

"And what did you think?"

Gandalf made a noncommittal sound just before a sack of coins flew into his hand, bringing a smile to the wizard's face. "My dear fellow, I never doubted you for a second,"

Bryn smiled at the elderly man, getting a wink from him in response.

A sneeze made Bryn jump, looking over to find Bilbo sniffing and searching his pockets for something. "Oh! It's horse hair. Having a reaction," He became more frantic when he realized he didn't have whatever it was he was looking for. "No, wait, wait. Stop. Stop! We have to turn around!"

The company stopped, looking back at Bilbo. "What on earth is the matter?"

"I forgot my handkerchief,"

"Here," Bofur ripped a piece of cloth from his shirt and threw it back to him. "Use this,"

Bilbo caught it but seemed to regret it as soon as he did. He brought it closer to his nose before it wrinkled in response, making him drop the cloth or else had to hold it longer than he had to. Everyone in the company laughed at him, turning back to start out again.

Gandalf rolled his eyes at the hobbit. "You'll have to manage without pocket-handkerchiefs and a good many other things, Bilbo Baggins, before we reach our journey's end. You were born to the rolling hills and the little rivers of the Shire but home is now behind you. The world is ahead,"

The company set up camp along the side of a cliff, building a fire near a rock wall overhang for cooking their dinner. Most of the dwarves gathered around the fire for dinner and rest, except for Thorin, who stood off to the side with a thoughtful look on his face. Bryn took her food and remained near Gandalf and Bilbo's side, conversing with them until the sun's light completely disappeared. Over the years, Bryn had had many companions and followers at her side on her adventures and she'd learned a great deal from each. With Gandalf and Bilbo, she learned to feel young again. There was something about them that made her feel young and inexperienced. It probably wasn't altogether a good thing, especially in a new and unfamiliar world but it felt nice.

When they all finally settled in to sleep, Bryn couldn't help but remain awake almost the whole night. Even with a slew of companions to watch her back at night, Bryn had never learned how to rid herself of being a light sleeper- not that she'd want to. This meant that the Nord woman didn't sleep much that night. She didn't trust the unfamiliar dwemer around her and that meant that she kept jerking awake at every sound or snore from Gloin. Bilbo wasn't doing all that well either, getting up to give his pony an apple he'd saved from dinner.

A shriek issued from the forest, making Bryn's back stiffen as Bilbo ran over to Fili and Kili who sat awake by the fire, on watch for the night.

"What was that?"

Fili and Kili looked about warily before answering. "Orcs,"

"Orcs?"

Bryn spotted Thorin nearby, who jerked awake at the word.

"Throat-cutters," Fili continued nonchalantly to the hobbit. "There'll be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them,"

"They strike in the wee hours of the night, when everyone's asleep," Kili continued after his twin, his voice hushed as he looked about. "Quick and quiet. No screams, just lots of blood,"

Bryn watched as the twins' faces broke into smirks as they started to laugh at the frightened hobbit, drawing a smile from Bryn. If she were to be honest, they'd had both her and Bilbo on the edge of their seats at their frightening description of the Orcs. She didn't doubt that on some level they were serious but the young men had been teasing with the greenhorns.

However, Thorin didn't seem to find it near as amusing. "You think that's funny? You think a night raid by Orcs is a joke?"

The laughter died. "We didn't mean anything by it,"

"No, you didn't. You know nothing of the world,"

They all watched Thorin walk off towards the edge of the cliff, stopping to look out at the moonlit valley in the silence. Bryn watched Thorin's back and wondered what could have happened to him that could have made him so bitter. Granted, she knew that he had not had a pleasant life and knew that the Orcs of this world were not the same as in her own world but she knew that something had definitely happened to the dwarf to make him so bitter at the twins' fun making.

Balin walked up to the young dwarves. "Don't mind him, laddies. Thorin has more cause than most to hate Orcs,"

Bryn crept toward them, sitting down within the light of the fire to be able to listen better, sensing a story coming on. Her own father- a retired sell sword turned farmer- had had the same look on his face, sometimes even with the same haunted look of having seen too much death and suffering. Bryn sat herself down between Bilbo and Kili, crisscrossed as she looked up at the white haired dwarf, waiting patiently as she'd done as a small child.

"After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria but out enemy had got there first. Moria had been taken by legions of Orcs led by the most vile of all their race; Azog, the Defiler.

"The giant Gundabad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin…" Balin's face darkened with pain and sadness as he continued. "He began by beheading the king… Thrain, Thorin's father, was driven mad by grief. He went missing, taken prisoner or killed, we did not know. We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us,"

Balin's expression changed as a sudden smile lit his face.

"That is when I saw him, a young dwarf prince facing down the Pale Orc. He stood alone against this terrible foe, his armor rent, wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield. Azog learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken,"

Bryn could almost imagine the great battle, a clash better an army of small, well armored men like the ones before her and an army of tall green skinned orcs that roared from their tusk filled mouths. Two stood in the center of the battle, Thorin with a misshapen oak shield in one hand and a sword in the other fighting against the largest of the Orcs, one that looked not unlike Malacath in white. She could see the clash between the two formidable forces, the clash of power not unlike a battle between two warring dragons. Nothing so pretty or amazing as dragons, but something bloody and awful to behold.

"Our forces rallied and drove the Orc's back. Our enemy had been defeated. But there was neither feast nor song that nights, for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived.

"And I thought to myself then, there is one who I could follow. There is one I could call King,"

At the end of the story, Thorin turned away from the edge to find the entire company awake and standing in awe, including a dumbstruck hobbit and Nord. Thorin walked among them and towards the fire in silence.

"But the Pale Orc?" Bilbo asked as curious as a child. "What happened to him?"

"He slunk back into the hole whence he came," Thorin bit out darkly. "That filth died of his wounds long ago,"

Bryn didn't miss the way Balin and Gandalf glanced at to each other nervously the way the rest of the dwarves did. They weren't telling Thorin something and Bryn had an idea of what it was.

The next day it rained with a vengeance as the company made its way through a length of forest, the canopy of leaves doing nothing to hinder the rain. Everyone seemed miserable except for Gandalf, who rode out in front of the group, his strange hat blocking much of the rain. All of the dwarves seemed to have cloaks to hide under while Bilbo looked like the equivalent of a drowned skeever. Bryn was neutral on the subject. The rain never made her armor very uncomfortable to wear but she was used to the wet and the cold of Skyrim. So, the thin cloak she did have with her, she swung over the hobbit's shoulders.

"Here, Mr. Gandalf!" a miserably wet dwarf called from behind Bryn. "Can't you do something about this deluge?"

"It is raining, Master Dwarf, and it will continue to rain until the rain is done," Gandalf told the dwarf, a sarcasm in his voice that made Bryn smile. "If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another Wizard,"

"Are there any?" Bilbo asked.

"What?"

"Other Wizards?"

"There are five of us. The greatest of our order is Saruman the White. Then there are the two Blue Wizards… do you know, I've quite forgotten their names,"

"And who is the fifth?"

"Well, that would be Radagast the Brown,"

"Is he a great Wizard? Or is he more like you?"

Bryn couldn't help the unladylike snort that escaped.

Gandalf looked back at him, slightly offended. "I think he's a great Wizard, in his own way. He's a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals to others. He keeps a watchful eye over the vast forest lands to the East and a good thing too. For always evil will look to find a foothold in this world,"

They rode for a few more minutes without relief from the rain.

"I bet _he_ would do something about this deluge," Ori mumbled irritably.

"_LOK VAH KOOR!_"

The words seemed to reach all the way up to the clouds, dispersing them and ending the endless shower of rain. Ori frowned at Bryn while she just shrugged at him innocently.

"Just remembered I knew that one,"

* * *

**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone reviewing my story! It's always great to hear from everyone and know you guys are liking how things are going. And I'd like to give an extra special thanks to _Faolen the Elven Wolf_ and _WhiteFang72_! You guys give awesome reviews! Keep it up everyone! THANK YOU!**


	5. William, Bert and Tom

**The Dovahkiin – An Unexpected Journey**

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**Chapter 5 – William, Bert and Tom**

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They next day was as beautiful as the first, the sun shining and warming the air.

In Skyrim, Bryn had become accustomed to silently traveling on her own. It was true that she occasionally had companions with her, but most weren't suited for conversation which left the trip relatively silent. It was only with Farkas that she usually spoke, him forcing her to speak or else he would tell her long offensive stories or sing off key. So when Bilbo and the other dwarves decided to befriend her and get her to talk about her home and her previous adventures, she was a little thrown. However, as the day dragged on she got used to it, settling into easy conversation with the company.

"Are you worried that you won't ever get back to your world?"

"Yes but I know that the Divines- even the Daedric Princes- can't last long without me. They'll find some way to bring me back to my own," Bryn shifted in her saddle. "At least I _hope_ they will,"

"Maybe you can just stay here forever," Kili suggested cheerfully. "Once we win Erebor back, you could stay with us or maybe let Gandalf show you the rest of Middle-Earth,"

"As wonderful as that sounds, I can't leave Skyrim to fend for itself," Bryn let out a sigh as she thought of what Skyrim had to fend against. "I have to admit, it's nice not to have to worry about having to take care of Alduin… not that I was any closer to defeating him as I am now,"

Bilbo's brows furrowed as he looked over at her. "Why is that?"

"Alduin is the World Eater. He is much harder to kill than any normal dragon,"

"Why?"

"He's the Nordic God of Destruction," she told him simply, as if it was obvious. "He may be a dragon but he's also a god, the firstborn of Akatosh to be exact," Bryn shivered wrapping an arm around her torso as she tried not to remember the last time she had seen the beast up close.

"What's wrong?"

Bryn looked up at Bilbo and frowned. "I am the Dragonborn, meant to end the beast that threatens our world… but I don't think I've ever been more afraid of facing him than anything else in the entire world,"

"He can't be that bad," Fili told her easily from atop his steed. "You've fought other dragons before. This one won't be any different… besides him being more powerful… and a god…"

The dwarves all started chuckling at that, even Thorin, who Bryn hadn't thought was even paying attention to their conversation, looked to be chuckling in his saddle. But Bryn didn't laugh, she'd seen Alduin up close… had seen the black of his eyes… and almost died because of her stupidity.

"When I first learned that I was the Dragonborn," Bryn began once the laughing had calmed, drawing everyone's attention back to her. Her eyes remained unfocused, remembering back to a year ago even if she didn't want to. "I was scared at first… but I'd just absorbed a damn dragon soul. I think it was the potency of my first soul that brought out the dragon in me. I was hungry for more… I went in search of dragons and killed any that were dumb enough to touch ground," Bryn let out a breath and looked up to meet Bilbo's eyes. "The Greybeards knew that I thirsted for power. That was why they wouldn't teach me more than one shout at the time. So I continued on my rampage through the land… until I met Delphine,"

The look of bloodlust lit her face, nearly making Bilbo want to slide out of his saddle and hide behind his pony.

"She promised me more dragons," Bryn snapped at him. "Dumbly, I followed her to the tomb of a dragon. There we watched as Alduin himself resurrected the dragon," Bryn shook her head, chuckling at the idiocy that was her. "I thought I could stop him then and end the coming back of the dragons with Alduin. I am the Dragonborn after all,"

Bryn's eyes fogged over as she remembered, seeing things that Bilbo was glad he couldn't.

"I ran out, axes raised and a battle cry on my lips. I was positive that the power my own Thu'um held would be enough to bring him down He took one look at me and laughed… And then he used his Thu'um on me…" Bryn shivered, pulling her cloak around her as if it kept her memories at bay. It didn't, she could still hear the great whoosh of air from his great wings, hear the deep laugh as his black eyes looked down at her. She'd been a bug to him, easily crushed beneath his foot as they Shout had rushed from his mouth. "I felt like my body was being burned and ripped apart all at once. When I woke up again I was broken, nearly ever bone broken and every muscle feeling scorched. I don't know how long I laid there feeling pitiful but eventually the desire to live grew too much. I was alone in the woods, not a city within reach or Delphine in sight… so I dragged my body through the woods until, by the grace of the Divines, I found a village,"

The dwarves with experience in battle winced in sympathy while the others just frowned, imaging the pain she had to go through.

"I spent months in the hands of the healers in Kynareth's temple. Normal healing spells and potions wouldn't work on me for the months that I lay broken in their temple. I was in constant agony," Bryn looked over at Kili and smiled a sad smile but he could see the light in her eyes. "But my Companion shield-siblings came to visit me constantly. Alea would tell me of the battles she'd won and the beasts she'd killed while Ria told me of the happenings within the Companions while I was healing. Vilkas came to read to me and Farkas just came to ramble about anything that came to his mind. The worse was when he'd tell me his horrible jokes,"

Dwalin nodded in understanding. "The laughing,"

"Oh, the laughing!" Bryn exclaimed, smiling besides herself. "It's more painful than coughing! And he knew it too. He just wanted to get me back for all the times I'd done it to him. He also kept doing it to make sure I was still in here," She tapped her temple. "He knew I wasn't the same after Alduin, sp he made sure that he got me up and training again as soon as I was able. He'd follow me around town asking if I wanted to train. I'd say no but end up training with him anyway because I'd attack him to get him to shut up,"

The dwarves around her laughed.

Bryn smiled. "He is the best shield-brother one could have,"

"_When did you become involved?_"

Bryn looked up at Thorin in surprise as he looked over his shoulder at her. "We didn't, we haven't and we won't,"

"Why not?" Balin asked. "It's clear as gold that you two love one another,"

"As shield-siblings," she told them firmly. "Nothing more, nothing less,"

"You're lying to yourself," Fili laughed.

Kili held his stomach as he laughed, nearly falling off his pony in amusement. "You're in love with your shield-brother,"

Bryn frowned. "No, I'm not,"

"Why don't you do something about it, lass?"

"Because he's married,"

The whole company grew quiet while Bryn smiled in triumph.

"He's been happily married to a Khajiit woman for the past year,"

"Oh…"

"What's a Khajiit?" Dwalin asked.

Bryn snorted and shook her head. "Something tells me you wouldn't believe me if I told you,"

"That means that you are unmarried?" Ori asked innocently. "Why?"

The Nordic woman shrugged. "I've been too busy over the past few years to notice most people… let alone suitors,"

By late afternoon, the company came upon an abandoned farmhouse. The field looked like it had only been left unattended for a month or so, most of the crops looking past ripe while weeds and grass had overtaken the rest. The farmhouse on the other hand looked as if it were twenty years in decay or as if it had been left in ruins by something large not long ago. Bryn was used to seeing this type of destruction in her own world when she traveled through the countryside. It usually meant that a giant or dragon had stumbled upon the estate and decided to crush the house and eating the lonely attendant inside. It seemed that only Gandalf and Bryn noticed the signs of foul play within the poor farmhouse while Thorin ordered the others to make camp.

"A farmer and his family used to live here…" Gandalf murmured, looking around the structure.

"And something large came by and destroy the house," Bryn continued from Gandalf's side, drawing his attention to her. "It crushed the house and grabbed those inside… it probably drove the rest into the woods and picked them off,"

"Nothing that large strays down into the valleys this far," Gandalf argued.

"Well they do now,"

They two looked at each other uneasily, knowing that Bryn was right. Something had taken the farmer and his family, something big that had destroyed the house they were standing in. And whatever it was was most likely still nearby.

"I think it would be wise to move on," Gandalf commented to Thorin as the dwarf walked up and past the two of them. "We could make for the Hidden Valley,"

"I have told you already, I will not go near that place,"

"Why not? The Elves could help us. We could get food, rest, advice,"

"I do not need their advice," Thorin snapped bitterly.

"We have a map that we cannot read. Lord Elrond could help us,"

"Help?" Thorin growled out, sarcasm touching his voice as Bryn watched his expression darken at the thought of the Elves.

Bryn was starting to think that Thorin didn't like anybody but himself and his dwarves.

"A dragon attacks Erebor. What help came from the Elves? Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls. The Elves looked on and did _nothing__._ And you ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather… who betrayed my father?"

"I thought the Elves that betrayed you were those of the Greenwood," Bryn spoke up from her place, leaning against a thick beam. Both men looked over at her, one not seeming pleased and the other amused, so she continued. "In my time, I have learned not to blame people as a whole. If I did, I would hate even myself for being a Nord,"

Gandalf nodded in agreement, turning back to the stubborn dwarf. "Listen to her, Thorin. I did not give you that map and key for you to hold on to the past,"

The anger returned to Thorin's face in a flash at Gandalf's words. "I did not know that they were yours to keep,"

Gandalf realized that he'd said the wrong thing entirely. Now all he had to show for his advice was a dwarven prince who would not listen to a Wizard or a female legend from another land… or any type of common sense. So, instead of fighting against the stubbornness of dwarves, he huffed as he turned and walked away.

"Everything all right?" Bilbo asked as Gandalf walked past him. "Gandalf, where are you going?"

"To seek the company of the only one around here who's got any sense,"

"And who's that?"

"Myself, Mr. Baggins! I've had enough of dwarves for one day,"

Bryn couldn't help but chuckle at the old wizard, the same way she couldn't help but give Thorin an exasperated look when she turned to look at him again. To Bryn, he never seemed happy; he always had the same harsh, angry, annoyed look on his face. He was gracing her with this expression right now.

"I will not seek their help,"

"Then you are a fool," Bryn told him simply, not bothering to be intimidated by the look he gave her in response to her statement. "Don't let yourself be blinded by your hate for the elves, Thorin. These people can offer you help that you need whether you like it or not. Elves may not have helped you before but _these_ Elves are offering help to you _now_,"

Thorin chose not to say anything because, as firm as he was in his decision not to go to the Elves for help, he knew that what she was saying made sense. They needed help, the Elves would give it to them and would probably be the only ones who could understand the map. Too bad Thorin hated them so much as to ignore all of that.

Bryn sighed. If he wasn't going to listen, she wasn't going to bang her head against a stone wall needlessly. She turned and walked away, finding a comfortable spot in the grass to lie out in the last few minutes of sun, curling up into the ground. She stayed like that well past dark, napping comfortably until Bofur set her meal down beside her.

"Thank you,"

He bowed his head and headed off again.

Bryn was about to sit up and eat when she heard leaves rustling and twigs snapping from the forest near where she was laying. She shot to her feet, pulling out her axes as she waited for her intruder to arrive in view. It was Fili. He was out of breath as he burst through the bushes in front of her, immediately putting his hands up when he saw the axes aimed at him.

"Fourteen ponies… three Trolls… Bilbo…"

This gained the attention of everyone in the group, some standing up, others stayed seated with worried faces.

Bryn placed her hand on the dwarf's shoulder to try to get him to slow down. "Take a breath, Fili. What about these trolls? And did you say Bilbo?"

"We were watching the ponies. Then there were fourteen. Trolls started nabbing them. There are three of them. Bilbo went to save the ponies. Now the Trolls have Bilbo too,"

"_Bein Ufiike! Dovahkiin los krii pah Daar_," (Foul Trolls! I will slay them all.)

"I'll ignore that," Fili nodded as the company headed off into the woods towards the troll camp.

Bryn and the dwarves followed Fili through the woods, past the ponies, through the fallen trees and towards the light of a fire and voices. Bryn had no idea what to expect. Orcs and Elves had already been remade in this world; it stood to reason that trolls had too.

"_You what_?"

"_I said… drop him_,"

That's when they finally broke through the cover of the trees. Bryn was struck by the sight of the three creatures standing in front of her. They looked more like giants than Trolls, though giants seemed much more human-like now that she was seeing these hulking monstrosities. They roared and swung down at her as the dwarves swarmed them, running between their legs as they swung their weapons. It looked like a well-practiced dance between the dwarves and tall moving structures instead of a battle with Trolls. Bryn fought as well as she could, but between her having to constantly duck and dive around the Trolls and not being able to use her Thu'um in such close proximity to the dwarves… she felt useless. She ended up standing by the wayside until the fighting came to an abrupt stop, the dwarves on one side and the Trolls on the other.

And Bilbo strung up between the Trolls.

"Bilbo!"

Thorin held out his arm, blocking Kili from running to Bilbo's aid. "Don't!"

"Lay down your arms… or we'll rip off his,"

Everyone remained silent as they waited for Thorin to tell them what the next move would be. Surprisingly, Thorin looked over and up at Bryn, waiting for a sign from her. He wanted to know if she could use her Thu'um to kill the Trolls or at least free Bilbo. Unfortunately, Bryn shook her head; she couldn't think of a helpful Shout that wouldn't also potentially hit Bilbo as well.

Thorin sighed and stuck his sword into the ground in surrender. The others followed, the younger dwarves throwing their weapons down in frustration.

"Get 'em!"

The dwarves were grabbed, shucked of their armor, tied up in bags and thrown into a pile. The Trolls selected a couple to be roasted over the fire, tying them to a rotating spit over the fire while they added more wood. Bryn sat beside Thorin, trying to weasel her way out of the series of ropes that had been wrapped around her, making her feel like some of the Drougr in their tombs.

"_Oh! That's hot, that's hot, that's hot!_"

"Don't bother cooking them. Let's just sit on them and squash them into jelly,"

"They should be sautéed and grilled with a sprinkle of sage,"

"_Is that really necessary?_"

"Ooh, that does sound quite nice,"

"_Untie me, mister!_"

"_Eat someone your own size_,"

"Never mind the seasoning. We ain't got all night. Dawn ain't far away. Let's get a move on. I don't fancy being turned to stone,"

This peaked both Bilbo's and Bryn's interests.

"Wait!" Bilbo was instantly on his feet, doing a balancing act until he remained standing, allowing him to hop towards the Trolls. "You are making a terrible mistake!"

"_You can't reason with them! They're half-wits_,"

"_Half-wits? What does that make us?_"

"I meant with the seasoning,"

"What about the seasoning?" asked one of the Trolls, taking an interest.

"Well, have you smelt them? You're gonna need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up,"

"_Traitor!_"

One of the Trolls frowned down at the Hobbit as he turned the spit. "What do you know about cooking dwarf?"

"Shut up!" another waved off, leaning down towards Bilbo. "Let the flurgaburburhobbit talk,"

Bilbo smiled up at the Troll in thanks and continued. "The secret to cooking dwarf is…"

"Yes?"

"Um… It's, uh…"

"Come on. Tell us the secret,"

"Yes, I'm telling you. The secret is…" Everyone was waiting with baited breath, curious to see what the hobbit would say. "… to skin them first,"

"_What?! Skin us?_"

The Troll smiled. "Tom, get me filleting knife,"

"_I won't forget that! I won't forget it!_"

"What a load of rubbish," one of the trolls drawled. "I've eaten plenty with their skins on. Scarf them, I say, boots and all,"

"He's right," another grinned. "Nothing wrong with a bit of raw dwarf," The Troll walked over and lifted Bombur up so that he could be lowered into the Troll's mouth beard first. "Nice and crunchy,"

"Oh, not that one!" Bilbo shouted. "He's infected!"

"Huh?"

"You what?"

Bilbo nodded desperately. "Yeah, he's got worms in his… tubes,"

"Eww!"

"In fact, they all have. They're infested with parasites. It's a terrible business. I wouldn't risk it. I really wouldn't,"

The dwarves, of course, didn't get it. "_Parasites? Did he say parasites?_"

"_We don't have parasites! _You_ have parasites!_"

"_What are you talking about, laddie?_"

Immediately, Bryn gave the nearest dwarf a swift kick in the sack, all of them looking at her angrily. However, once they got a look at both Bryn's and Thorin's expression, they started to get the idea of what was going on and what Bilbo was trying to accomplish.

"_I've got parasites as big as my arm_,"

"_Mine are the biggest parasites. I've got _huge_ parasites_,"

"_We're riddled!_"

"_Yes, I'm riddled_,"

"_Yes, we are, badly_,"

One of the Trolls from at them all angrily, flinging out his arm. "What would you have us do, then? Let 'em all go?"

Bilbo tilted his head. "Well…"

"You think I don't know what you're up to?" the Troll growled, poking a finger at Bilbo. "This little ferret is taking us for fools,"

"Ferret?"

"Fools?"

"Aren't you going to do something?" Thorin bit out at Bryn in a hushed tone, seeing that Bilbo's little plan was starting to come to an end. No doubt a bloody one. "Shout. Do _something_,"

Bryn looked over at the tied up dwarven king, giving a sound glare. "Could you hold on for a moment? I know what I'm doing," The Dragonborn then turned back towards the Trolls with a mischievous smile on her face. Taking a deep breath, she let out a small whisper that only Thorin seemed to hear. "_Zul Mey Gut,_"

Thorin was confused over her whispered words. They weren't a shout and they didn't seem to do anything like the shout that had knocked him off of his feet… but then he heard it.

"_Hey, melon nose_!"

The voice had sounded exactly like Bryn's except that it had come from in the trees, far away from the Trolls' camp. All three Trolls looked up at the sound of the shout, looking at each other to see if the other had heard it.

"_Zul Mey Gut_," Bryn whispered again.

Thorin waited.

"_Hey, skeever butt_!"

"Who said that?!" one of the Trolls roared, getting up and heading towards the shout. "Where are you?"

"The dwarves brought friends," another of the Trolls growled, leaning over the Bilbo and the pile of dwarves. "Maybe we can eat them too,"

"_Zul Mey Gut,_"

The last Troll stood. "Where are you?! We'll eat you!"

"_Hey, cheese brain_!"

"Where'd that come from?!" the Trolls yelled angrily. "You'll pay for that!"

"_Zul Mey Gut_,"

"Shut it!"

"_Hey slug breath_!"

By now, Bryn couldn't hold in her laughter, nearly rolling away as she giggled at the fumbling Trolls as they looked for her voice. The two of the three searching Trolls turned back to her and growled, running over to lift her up by her feet, glaring into her face. Even with the foul breath blowing into her face, Bryn couldn't keep herself from laughing at the bumbling dimwits.

"_Bryn!_"

"You laughing at us?"

Bryn nodded, not even pausing in her laughter.

"You won't find it so funny when you're being digesticated,"

"_YOL TOOR SHUL!_"

Flame left Bryn's mouth with her words, hitting the Troll square in the face. With a pained shriek, the Troll let her go, dropping her to the ground as he batted at his enflamed face, tripping about the camp in pain. Bryn rolled out of the way of the colossal feet, her shoulders painfully warmed by the fire at her back.

As the Trolls ran around, a new figure appeared over the camp, standing on a nearby boulder with the sun's light at his back. "_The dawn will take you all!_"

The Trolls stopped, even the burned one, to turn and look up at the wizard.

"Who's that?"

"No idea,"

"Can we eat him too?"

Gandalf slammed his staff down onto the rock and side stepped just as the boulder broke in half, revealing the rising sun on the other side. The Trolls shouted as their skin began to turn to stone, ending up frozen about the fire.

The dwarves exclaimed happily, Bryn sighing in relief as she rolled away from the fire.

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**Author's Note:**The translation of _**Bein Ufiike! Dovahkiin los krii pah Daar.**_** - Foul Trolls! I will slay them all.** - (Literally; Foul Trolls! Dragonborn/I will/is/are kill all these.)

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	6. Rosgobel Rabbit

**The Dovahkiin – An Unexpected Journey**

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**Chapter 6 – Rhosgobel Rabbits**

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The dwarves were released from their sacks and cut down from the spit, each of them instantly running over to their weapons, armor and clothes. They were thankful to Gandalf but they felt the need to be clothed before they thanked him directly.

Thorin was the first to be clothed and walked over to where Bryn sat quietly, seeming content to remain tied up until someone offered to cut her loose. Without commenting, Thorin went to work at the thick binding, gently working his dagger in between the tightly wound rope. Once he's made it through the rope and finished unraveling her, he reached out a hand to help her to her feet.

"That was impressive,"

Bryn smiled up at the dwarf and took the hand he offered her. "Thank you,"

Thorin watched the strange Nordic woman walk off to find her gear before he spotted Gandalf not far off. He approached the wizard, trying not to let his ego feel too bruised at knowing the wizard had been right yet again. They should have continued on.

"Where did you go to, if I may ask?"

Gandalf shrugged nonchalantly. "To look ahead,"

"What brought you back?"

"Looking behind," Gandalf looked between the frozen Trolls and the dressing dwarves. "Nasty business. Still, they're all in one piece,"

"No thanks to your burglar,"

Gandalf looked over at Thorin seriously. "He had the nous to play for time. None of the rest of _you_ thought of that… except for Bryn,"

Thorin nodded thoughtfully as he looked over at the woman as she pulled on her boots, the rest of her leather armor now in place. She reached down towards her pack, her loose blond hair falling around her shoulders, before stopping to laugh at something Bilbo said. Her face lit up and her laugh floated over to the pair, a light laugh that sounded like it hadn't been heard in years.

"An interesting woman," Thorin commented.

"You're welcome,"

Thorin glared over at Gandalf as the wizard smirked, looking away from him.

"They must have come down from the Ettensmoors,"

"Since when do Mountain Trolls venture this far south?"

"Ooh. Not for an age," Gandalf's expression darkened with a thoughtful frown. "Not since a darker power ruled these lands,"

Thorin watched the old man, ready to ask him about it when he was interrupted.

"They could not have moved in daylight,"

"There must be a cave nearby,"

They found it not too far away, a sliver of an opening beneath a rock face. Flies swirled around the entrance and the stench of the cave leaked out in noxious fumes that had Bilbo gagging. Bryn was the first to approach the cave, pulling the cloth of her scarf over her nose and mouth as she held bow in one hand, ready to enter. Caves were not a new thing for the woman. She'd cleared out whole tombs and found other dangerous things in more than a few that she'd stumbled upon in her travels. They typically held quite a bit of gold and loot, partially from treasures hidden away and partially from those who'd died in the attempt of retrieving it. Bryn had no doubt that this cave would be any different.

"Wait!"

Bryn nearly slipped on a rock at Bilbo's sharp yell, having to grip Oin's shoulder to keep from falling head first down the hole. A bit of adrenaline induced annoyance entered her eyes as she turned to see the hobbit staring at her in shock.

"You aren't going in there too, are you?"

Bryn laughed. "Of course I am. The caves at home always surely are more dangerous than those here, Master Baggins. I'm sure to find it quite boring,"

"You are a very strange young lady, Bryn,"

Bryn bowed to him sarcastically. "Thank you, Master Hobbit,"

"_I will go first_,"

Bryn turned to find Thorin standing behind her, holding both a torch and a sword. Not wanting to argue with the leader of the company or a prince, Bryn stepped aside with a bow of her head. She followed close after the dwarf, sliding her bow into its holster at her back as she looked about the noxious cave.

"Oh, what's that stench?"

"You didn't notice from the outside?"

"It's a Troll-hoard," Gandalf answered Nori, giving Bryn a look. "Be careful what you touch,"

Bryn looked around the cave to find that it ended just as abruptly as the cave she'd stayed in on her last night in Skyrim. It was very much unlike the caves that she was used to in Skyrim; there were no traps, no Drougr, no chanting mages… just a horrid stench and a large amount of gold and loot. She had to admit, it was nice having to fight tooth and nail in an endless labyrinth. This cave just handed it's loot over to you.

"Seems a shame to leave all this lying around," Bofur commented, nudging some of the gold coins with his foot. "Anyone could take it,"

"Agreed. Nori? Get a shovel,"

Bryn followed after Gandalf and Thorin, watching as Thorin looked through a barrel full of beautiful looking swords. Thorin set down his torch and sheathed his own sword as he looked through them, pulling out long swords and strange curved ones. They looked very beautiful and delicate to some of the axes and swords the dwarves carried or swords that Bryn knew to belong to Skyrim. The curved ones actually looked a lot more like glass swords of Skyrim or the carved scythes of Hammerfell that she once saw the Redguard of the Dark Brotherhood have at his hip.

"These swords are not made by any Troll," Thorin commented as he handed one of the swords to Gandalf, eyeing his own.

"Nor were they made by any smith among Men," Gandalf continued, blowing at the dust and cobwebs as he pulled the sword a few inches from the sheath. "These were forged in Gondolin, by the High Elves of the First Age,"

Thorin had been about to pull the sword from its sheath but at the knowledge that it had been made by Elves, he didn't dare touch it and was about to put it back.

"You could not wish for a finer blade," Gandalf snapped at the stubborn dwarf.

Thorin glared up at the wizard before his eyes turned to Bryn, who seemed amused at him. She was only laughing because the dwarf seemed so determined to hate all things Elf, not bothering to do what was smart, right or good. She figured that, even if he were drowning, that he would likely let himself drown that take the hand of an Elf that was offering to help him out.

At Bryn's expression and Gandalf's words, Thorin jerked the sword back to him and wrenched the sword from its sheath with a vengeance. Without the knowledge that it was a sword of Elvish make, it seemed like a good sword, well made. With a huff, Thorin placed it against his back, accepting the damn thing as his new sword. He then grabbed another and walked over to Bryn. She seemed surprised to be approached and even more so when he thrust one of the Elvish swords at her.

"You said you can handle a sword, didn't you?" Thorin asked when she didn't take it.

Bryn took the sword, eyeing it appreciatively. The Elvish sword, a shorter curved one that looked much more similar to the glass swords in Skyrim than the rest of them did. It had beautiful markings and a strong curve that made her less afraid of breaking it than the rest usually did.

"Thank you,"

Thorin bowed his head and continued toward the entrance of the cave. "Let's get out of this foul place. Come on, let's go. Bofur, Gloin, Nori," They all followed the dwarf out of the cave, thankful to be away from the horrid stench of the Troll-hoard.

"_Something's coming!_"

"Stay together!" Gandalf shouted, unsheathing his newly acquired Elvish weapon. "Hurry now! Arm yourselves!"

Everyone unsheathed their weapons and ran towards a cleared area, waiting for the enemy to come at them in plain sight. Bilbo unsheathed his new weapon as well, staying at Gandalf's and Bryn's side as the rustling of the woods became louder. Bryn took a deep breath to Shout as the figure came to a stop in front of them but a hand clamped down over her mouth to stop the Words.

"Radagast!" Gandalf greeted, removing the hand from Bryn's mouth to approach his friend. "It's Radagast the Brown. Well…" Gandalf's expression changed from happy to see the strangely dressed wizard, suspicious of what the elderly man had to say to him. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"I was looking for you, Gandalf. Something's wrong. Something's terribly wrong,"

"Yes?"

Radagast went to say it but stopped, mouth open and finger in the air. He tried again but nothing came out. Finally he frowned and stomped his foot. "Oh. I had a thought and now I've lost it. It was right there on the tip of my tongue," Suddenly realization hit the brown cloaked wizard. "Oh! It's not a thought at all. It's a silly old stick insect,"

The company watched as the wizard stuck out his tongue, revealing the insect clamped on to his tongue for dear life. As everyone looked on in shock and disgust, Gandalf plucked it from Radagast's tongue and handed it to him.

"Ew," was all Bryn said on the matter.

"Come, my friend," Gandalf said to Radagast, placing a hand on his fellow wizard's back to lead him away from the company. "Let us talk in private,"

Radagast nodded adamantly as the two stepped aside.

Bryn and the dwarves waited patiently as the two talked, Thorin sitting down beside Bryn as they waited in a comfortable silence. The two remained in thought for a long while until Bryn looked over at Thorin, eyeing his expression. He looked so angry and Bryn doubted it was because whatever he was thinking about. Maybe he'd been frowning so much over the years that his face was stuck in a permanent frown. Thorin had a very handsome face even in its dark scowl, but Bryn just couldn't imagine the dwemer smiling.

"Why do you never smile?"

The question surprised Thorin out of his own thoughts, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked over at the human. "Excuse me?"

"In the time I've known you, you haven't laughed or smiled," she told him matter-of-factly, looking over the frown marks etched into his face. "You don't smile,"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "You've only known me and my company for a few days. You could be wrong. I could smile all the time,"

Bryn shook her head. "I know you don't smile. You can see the frown set into the contours of your face," she told him, pointing along his cheeks and forehead. "I have a shield-brother, Vilkas, who has the same look to his face. It looked as if his face would break apart if he were to even attempt smiling. I can see the pain in his eyes and the knowledge weighing on him.

"I asked him once, about why he doesn't smile… he told me it was because he didn't have anything to smile about," Bryn frowned too, looking out at the woods as if she could see Vilkas and his permanent frown out in the distance. "Is that why you never smile? Is there no joke, no event, no bit of happiness, nothing that has ever made you laugh?"

Thorin frowned, looking away from her. "No… not since Erebor,"

"The loss of your family is the worst that can occur to a person but you've let it rule over your life, Lord Dwemer. It has made you hard and distant," Thorin looked up at her, still frowning as he took in her words. "I hope, when we retake Erebor, you truly are like Vilkas,"

"And why is that?" he asked.

"Because, even though he never smiles, he is a good leader. He knows what is best for the rest of us and listens. He doesn't remain away from us in his moods,"

"You think I would be a cold and thoughtless leader?"

"Yes," Bryn didn't allow him enough to be insulted before she continued. "There is a leader in my land, his name is Ulfric. Even though he says what he is doing is for the best of Skyrim, my land, he never smiles because what has befallen him. He lets his past dictate his future. He remains away from others in every decision he makes. He decides what will happen next in his grand scheme but does not look at what is happening directly around him… he does not do what is right by his people, he does what is right by him.

"So…" Bryn continued on a much happier note than before. "Does it stand to reason that, when we retake Erebor, you will learn to smile again?"

"…Perhaps,"

The two settled into a companionable silence again, Thorin thinking on her words while Bryn sat quietly, waiting for the wizards to be finished with their council. But the waiting came to an end when a howl pierced the air.

"Was that a wolf?" Bilbo asked worriedly. "Are there- are there wolves out there?"

Bryn frowned. "That doesn't sound like any wolf I've ever heard,"

"No, that is not a wolf," Bofur agreed. "Wargs,"

Another howl sounded and everyone turned as a Warg came over the hill and pinned one of the dwarfs. Thorin was instantly there, nearly cutting all the way through the Warg's neck as another came at Thorin from behind. Two arrows hit the Warg- one in the shoulder and one in the eye- bringing it to the ground, Dwalin making sure to finish it off. Thorin looked between his nephew and Bryn as they both lowered their bows, nodding to both of them in thanks.

"Warg-scouts. Which means an Orc pack is not far behind,"

"Orc pack?" Bilbo repeated.

"Who did you tell about your quest beyond your kin?" Gandalf asked.

"No one,"

"Who did you tell?!"

"No one, I swear!" Thorin yelled back at him. "What in Durin's name is going on?"

Bryn frowned. "We're being hunted,"

"We have to get out of here,"

"We can't!" Ori cried. "We have no ponies; they bolted,"

Then Radagast spoke up. "I'll draw them off,"

Gandalf frowned. "These are Gundabad Wargs. They will out run you,"

"_These_ are Rhosgobel Rabbits," Radagast told him easily, a smirk appearing on his face. "I'd like to see them try,"

Radagast was gone in a flash of rabbits, shooting through the undergrowth the same way he'd come, drawing a loud crash of howls and shouts after him. Next went Gandalf, urging the dwarves to follow him closely through the open expanse of grasslands before them, Bryn bringing up the rear. They ran where they could, keeping behind boulders as Radagast and the Warg riding Orcs ran past. Bryn kept up easily with the last of the dwarves, keeping Bombur, Balin and the rest moving before her.

They came to a large mound of crushed rock, taking cover again as the Wargs ran past, Bryn ducking down as the dwarves plastered themselves against the outcropping. Silence descended as an Orc and his Warg climbed the rock, the sound of the Warg's harsh breathing meeting their ears.

Thorin looked to Kili and Bryn, nodding silently at their bows. Both nodded back, notching an arrow before looking to each other to gage timing. After a breath, they stepped out together and shot, Kili's arrow meeting the Warg's shoulder while Bryn's met the Orc's throat. Orc and Warg fell from the rock, the Warg desperately trying to remove the arrow while the dying Orc yanked at the Warg's harness, guiding it sideways off the rock. Once they met the ground, the dwarves attacked, slaying the Warg and Orc within second.

But the sound carried.

"Move! Run!" Gandalf shouted as the sound of the Wargs grew closer.

The dwarves took off as fast as they could after Gandalf, Bryn still remaining at the back of the group, keeping an eye on the fast approaching Wargs. Their escape came to an end when Wargs suddenly appeared in front of the group, surrounded the dwarves and drawing ever closer. Everyone stepped closer to each other, looking around desperately for a way out but found none.

"We're surrounded!"

"Kili! Bryn! Shoot them down!" Thorin shouted.

Kili notched arrows while Bryn grabbed Fili by the back of the shirt, forcing him behind her. He was about to object when he realized, as she opened her mouth, what she was doing.

"_VEN GAR NOS!_"

A cyclone appeared from her Shout, picking up rocks, Wargs and Orcs alike and sending them flying through the air like toys in a child's tantrum.

"_FO KRAH DIIN!_"

Next, as Bryn turned to the next set of Warg riders, a blizzard exploded from her mouth, ice and wind knocking back any of the Wargs in its way, cold settling over the grassland.

"_FUS RO DAH!_"

Lastly, the shout that left Bryn's mouth forced the closest Warg's to fly backward, one of the Wargs hitting a tree with a resounding pop, it's back breaking as it crashed the ground in an odd position as its mouth lulled open.

"Where's Gandalf?"

"He's abandoned us!"

"Hold your ground!" Thorin shouted, stepping next to Bryn as they raised their weapons, ready to die to keep the others alive.

"_Drep zanalt ash!_" (_Kill the loud one_!) the leader of the Warg riders shouted, aiming his sword at Bryn, eyes alight with rage.

Wargs descended on Bryn, one eager to close its fangs on her neck.

"Bryn!" Thorin exclaimed, uncomfortable with the speed the Warg was approaching at while Bryn just stood there. "_Bryn!_"

"_IISS SLEN NUS!_"

The Warg and its rider froze, ice coating their skin. They had been frozen solid, stopped mid run when the shout had hit them, sending them toppling over like a statue knocked on its side. The dwarves behind Thorin and Bryn laughed along with the Dragonborn, finding the sight humorous even when the possibility of their death was close at hand.

"_This way, you fools!_"

Everyone turned to find the grey Wizard peaking over a rock at them, apparently having found a hidden way to escape. The dwarves descended on their escape, Thorin guiding them in while Kili and Bryn stayed to the outside of the group, firing arrows at the descending Wargs.

"Come on, move! Quickly, all of you! Go, go, go!"

"_FAAS RU MAAR!_"

The Shout that left Bryn's mouth seemed to do nothing at first, but after a long moment all Wargs within Bryn's line of sight suddenly started whimpering and jumping about against their master's orders and shouts. The Wargs began turning tail and fleeing in terror, Orcs shouting and yelling as they tried to get their Wargs to turn back.

Kili couldn't help the laugh that left him.

"Kili, Bryn! Run!"

Both turned and ran for the boulder, the sounds of beating paws close at their back even with Bryn's recent Shout. They both kept running until Kili slid down the hole, leaving Thorin and Bryn above ground, watching the mixture of fleeing and approaching Wargs.

"Go! I'll be right behind you!"

"You go first! Move!"

Both looked at each other in surprise until Thorin nodded. "Fine,"

He grabbed her by the back of the shirt and dragged her with him as he jumped down the hole. Bryn exclaimed in shock and a bit of pain, the rock face biting into her back through her leather armor as she slid down. When they both landed, Bryn on her back and Thorin on his feet, she glared up at him, sitting up in a jerk.

"How rude," Bryn snapped, her voice hoarse from Shouting.

Everyone froze as a new sound split the air, a horn in the distance. The sounds of arrows, swords and squealing Wargs issued from above as an Orc fell. Thorin jerked Bryn back, watching as the Orc fell and landed where she had just been, Gandalf and the rest of the dwarves aiming their weapons down at it once it settled. When it didn't move, Thorin ripped the arrow from its neck and examined it.

"Elves,"

Bryn gave Thorin an annoyed look at his obvious disgust, watching him throw down the arrow and look to Gandalf. The three of them knew it was no coincidence that they'd found this tunnel and that this had been where Gandalf had intended to lead them. None of them doubt that it was only a matter of steps before they found the Hidden Valley.

"I cannot see where the pathway leads," Dwalin called back from farther down the path. "Do we follow it or no?"

"Follow it, of course," Bofur exclaimed, running after him.

Thorin helped Bryn to her feet and bitterly followed his company as they made their way down the thin path through the rock. When it finally widened again they appeared on a cliff overlooking the most beautiful city Bryn had ever seen in all of her life. The city was brightly lit by the sun, long water falls tumbling from the cliffs that the city sat on. The architecture was unlike anything Bryn had ever seen, elegant and thin in comparison to almost anything that she'd seen in her Skyrim.

"The Valley of Imraldis," Gandalf told them. "In the common tongue, it's known by another name…"

"Rivendell," Bilbo finished for the Wizard, like Bryn, not taking his eyes off the city.

"Here lies the Last Homely House East of the Sea,"

"This was your plan all along," Thorin's voice bit out, forcing everyone to break their stunned gazes to turn and look at the angry dwarf king. "To seek refuge with our enemy,"

"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield. The only ill will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself,"

"You think the Elves will give our quest their blessing?" Thorin challenged with sarcasm. "They will try to stop us,"

"Of course they will," Gandalf agreed. "But we have questions that need to be answered,"

Thorin lowered his eyes with defeat, letting Gandalf's humor return.

"If we are to be successful, this will need to be handled with tact… and respect… and no small degree of charm. This is why you will leave the talking to me,"

Bryn laughed, drawing eyes to her. She didn't look at all sorry, just continued to smile as they descended towards the Elvish city.

* * *

**Author's Note:** The translations of _**Drep zanalt ash!**_ - **Kill the loud one!** - (Literally; Kill (Drep, Mabus, Vras) loud (Zanalt) the one (Ash)! - Kill loud the one!)


End file.
